


Little Spoon

by littledust



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 14:34:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2815592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littledust/pseuds/littledust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Everyone likes to be the little spoon, it makes you feel safe!" Or: one time each person in the Nine-Nine was the little spoon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Spoon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mardia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mardia/gifts).



> A treat for you, dear recipient! I hope you enjoy.

**1\. Rosa**

When the shooting starts, Terry tackles her to the ground and therefore shelter behind some crates.

" _Uhn_ ," Rosa groans, a bruise undoubtedly blooming over the numbness in her cheek. Kissing concrete sure beats getting shot, though, so she can't complain. Except now Sarge is huddling against her, trying to keep his massive shoulders out of bullet range.

"You hit?" he asks, mistaking her groan.

Rosa spits out a little blood, which looks pretty badass. Rosa's not exactly an optimist, but she gets through tough situations by appreciating the little things, like nonlethal blood spatter. "Nah. Just got hit by a linebacker. Can you reach your gun?"

Terry shifts behind her, then hisses as a bullet whizzes by too close overhead. They're running out of time. "Not without exposing myself. To the bullets, I mean! Damn, why did they line these crates up instead of stacking them a few at a time? That is _not_ an efficient use of space!"

More bullets rip through the air. God, Rosa can't wait to arrest these sons of bitches. Sighing, she says, "Reach into my jacket and get my gun. Never tell anyone about this, ever."

That's how Rosa get a big bear hug/little spoon cuddle in the middle of a shootout. Terry, valuing his health, doesn't say a word when the cavalry arrives, just hands over her gun.

**2\. Hitchcock and Scully**

True to form, Hitchcock and Scully constantly mix up the story about how they first met. "And bonded for life," Hitchcock says, though by that point, no one in the office is listening. Maybe he would still have an audience if he kept his shirt on, Scully thinks, but keeps it to himself. He would rather his best friend be comfortable than a whole bunch of cool guys hanging on to their every word.

Wait. That part is kind of a lie.

"You can still tell me," Scully says, patting Hitchcock's bare shoulder. "We were on the way up to our interview…"

"...and the elevator stopped!" Hitchcock continues, picking up the thread of the story.

They both agree that they were trapped in the elevator for hours, and that it was a good thing Scully had an emergency meatball sub in his pocket. They even agree that they took a nap after their light lunch. What they can't decide is who their old captain found snuggled up with whom when the elevator finally started working again.

"You're a very tender big spoon," Scully insists, but Hitchcock rolls his eyes and says, "No, you sang me the most beautiful lullaby in the world and cradled me in your arms."

Well, as long as they're still friends.

**3\. Terry**

Terry would do anything for his baby girls. He would scale a mountain, dive into the Mariana Trench, and go to the ends of the earth to make his precious angels happy.

He's starting to think it will take all that and more to get Cagney and Lacey to sleep.

" _Please,_ " he groans, bouncing them up and down a little as he paces the floor, one baby in each arm. "Babies need lots of sleep to grow up big and strong. Babies need to go to sleep, and daddies need to go to sleep, and mommies need to sleep when they get back from the drugstore with more headache medicine…"

Terry rambles on in that vein until he's not even sure what he's saying anymore. Every time one twin starts to settle down, the other one lets out a pitiful cry that used to shatter Terry's heart until he discovered that it precedes hours of angry squalling. His temples give a dull, sad throb, as though even his headache is too tired to do its job. Too tired, too fried, too scared, too anxious…

"Terry is projecting a little," he says aloud, but it's too late. Now he feels sorry for his headache. He should let it run its course the natural way instead of killing it with ibuprofen.

The twins aren't anywhere near as heavy as the weights Terry lifts on a regular basis, but the lack of sleep is taking its toll. Terry lays Cagney and Lacey in their crib, their little faces screwed up in tragic wails. They're so loud that at first Terry doesn't even notice when the radio alarm clock goes off at the time he and his wife would normally get up for work.

When his secret favorite song comes on, Terry is far enough into exhaustion-induced delirium that it seems like a good idea to sing to his girls. " _Makin' my way downtown, walking fast, faces pass, and I'm homebound,_ " he croons, then sings along with the little piano riff.

And, miracle of miracles, that's what sends the twins off to Dreamland at last.

Terry doesn't remember crawling into his own bed. He only knows that when he wakes up, the girls are still asleep and his wife is pressed up against his back, finally getting some rest.

**4\. Gina**

It's kind of gross how much better Gina feels with Rosa and Amy in the apartment, eating microwaved nachos and drinking an eight-dollar bottle of wine. Rosa only barely makes Gina's list of Top Twenty People I'd Hang Out With, way after Ryan Gosling but definitely before Taylor Swift. (No offense to Tay-Tay, but she seems like the kind of celebrity Gina could make cry in public. Entertaining, but not good press for her future dance career.)

"Do you have any coasters?" asks Amy, who doesn't even rank on Gina's Top One Hundred. At Gina's sarcastic eyebrow lift, she adds, "Never mind."

Still, even Amy Santiago picking nacho cheese out of her teeth is better than an empty ( _spooky_ ) apartment. Gina gives a satisfied nod and says, "We're like Charlie's Angels with two-thirds of the sex appeal."

Gina solves any potential weirdness about the three of them having to pile into her bed by making it super weird. "There is literally no other space for you to sleep but my bed. This is why I usually only invite male models over to my apartment, but since you're doing me a favor, I'll let it slide. Prepare to go where several guys featured in underwear catalogues have gone before."

Her enormous collection of pillows comes in handy. Gina claims her spot of the bed and barricades herself against any accidental touching. Rosa does the same, leaving Amy annoyed and squashed-looking in the middle.

"Seriously! I brushed my teeth!" she protests, then rolls onto her stomach with a huff.

Of course, Gina is a restless sleeper when she's nervous, and yeah, getting robbed rattled her nerves. She wakes up to two pillows under her head, a pillow tucked under her foot, six pillows on the floor, and Amy Santiago's arm draped around her waist.

Gross. But friendship itself is gross, anyway. Knowing Jake Peralta for so long is proof enough of that.

**5\. Ray**

Ray and Kevin have a designated side of the bed, of course. Like most couples, they also have their preferred sleeping positions. Ray likes to sleep on his back, maintaining perfect posture even while sleeping. Kevin prefers to sleep on his side, with just one hand on Ray's shoulder. He claims it makes it easier to sleep when Ray is working a night shift and isn't there.

But there's one evening when Ray sighs in bed, so quietly he doesn't think Kevin will hear it. Kevin does, because Kevin has a habit of paying attention to his husband. It's rather wonderful, except when Ray wants to hide something from him.

"What's the matter?"

"I had a... difficult day at work today," Ray admits, heaving another microscopic sigh.

Kevin props himself up on his elbow, alarm registering on his face. "Dear God, did someone die? I've never seen you like this."

"No, nothing like that, thankfully." Ray closes his eyes, hearing gunfire. "One of my officers was shot in the line of duty. He'll be fine, but... I know you might not believe me, but they're good people. I'm going to work harder, ensure that there are no further injuries."

Kevin smiles and settles back down. "Of course. I admire your dedication."

That's a perfectly adequate place to end the conversation. Ray has been open and honest with his husband, his husband has been supportive, and Ray is reassured. Still, Ray needs something more before he can drift off to sleep. "Tonight, I would like more physical contact. I believe the proper term for it is 'snuggling.'"

Without another word, Kevin turns over, reaching out. Ray is finally able to drift off, his husband's arms around him.

**6\. Amy**

Teddy is smart. Teddy shares her hobbies. Teddy likes a little romance. Teddy is safe, and kind, and everything Amy has ever been looking for in a guy. He even pretends to like the decor in Amy's apartment, which Amy will _maybe_ admit is a little frightening.

(The fact that it caused one of her dates to run away screaming, "Serial killer!" is beside the point.)

Lying in bed, Teddy curled around her, arms holding her in place, Amy closes her eyes, knowing that she has everything she's ever wanted.

Except it's not like anything she's ever wanted, or rather, what she wanted isn't turning out like she expected. Amy feels safe like this, but right now, safety says _trapped_ instead of _secure_ , which is really the synonym Amy should be reaching for here.

She'll figure out what it all means tomorrow, when she can make inventoried lists and categorize what exactly is making her so unhappy. For now, she'll just sleep the best she can.

**7\. Charles**

Charles likes mornings with Gina the best. First of all, she sleeps later than he does (in her words, "The most dazzling of minds does not function before 1 PM"), so he has a little while to linger in bed, thinking quiet thoughts about how comforting Gina's embrace is and how he really has to start using the same brand of detergent, because wow, her sheets smell amazingly fresh.

He tries not to read into the way Gina sleeps when she's with him: one arm and one leg wrapped around him, spooning him from behind. (He tries not to read into anything, because God forbid he try to go Full Boyle on Gina, or even Half Boyle. Casual is good. Keeping the deets on the d/l is good.)

When he's too awake for his brain to focus on cuddling, Charles plans out a breakfast menu, though Gina's tastes range from absolutely pedestrian to "just dump sriracha on it until someone around you starts crying, it'll be fun." She does have surprisingly strong opinions on what makes a good bagel, so there is hope for her yet.

On the other hand, Charles doesn't like to start off the day with pitched battles, and he _definitely_ doesn't like his meals interrupted by food being thrown at his head, so he always makes the same thing when he untangles himself from Gina's unconscious embrace. She takes her scrambled eggs "fluffy, but not too fluffy" and refers to waffles as "God's personal thank you to me for existing."

Charles tries to move and Gina makes a sleepy, aggravated noise. Maybe he'll stay in bed a minute longer.

**8\. Jake**

People get Jake.

They get that he's a flake, they get that he doesn't use his savings account to save any money, they get that he only willingly eats vegetables when Terry executes terrible friendship wrath upon his palate. They even get that Jake only knows the word "palate" because of his foodie best friend, and he has no idea how to spell it.

Just about the only thing people don't get about Jake Peralta is his desire to be the little spoon. It doesn't jibe with his whole aura of mystique. ( _You mean your aura of manchild?_ says his inner Gina, because that is one of the consequences of knowing Gina as long as he has.) When he says, "Hey, can I be the little spoon?" in the afterglow, most women laugh. When they realize he's serious, they assume his preferred sleeping position means he has hidden, sensitive depths, like a pool that looks like it only has a shallow end but still really wants to hear about your day.

People get Jake, but Amy _knows_ Jake, and that's why he doesn't have to ask about preferred sleeping positions. Amy wraps her slight and surprisingly strong arms around his waist, and Jake is already half-asleep. It's like being wrapped in a blanket of comfort (or, well, that part's literal--Amy's decor is old lady, but it's warm) and lying on a pillow of marshmallows.

"Marshmallow therapy," Jake mutters, trying to remember the idea for tomorrow. It comes out more like, "M'm'l th'p."

"Sure," Amy says, sounding pretty sleepy herself. It does _things_ to Jake, feeling her breath warm the back of his neck. If he weren't so tired, he might act on those things again. "G'night, Jake."

Curled together, they fall asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Terry's song choice comes from [this amazing clip](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pQhLLCUgFIg). It is possible that I cried laughing while watching it and was SO VERY HAPPY I Googled "Terry Crews singing."


End file.
